


Tentacular Discovery

by shrooms



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien genitalia, Crack, Established Relationship, F/F, Tentacles, lots of tentacles, not like an absurd amount but like..., sometimes the aliens change your DNA all willy nilly, the drawbacks of working at the DEO
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-07-10 00:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19896949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrooms/pseuds/shrooms
Summary: An alien encounter manages to give Alex tentacles of her very own.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a late night chat with a trash bin buddy of mine discussing all the tentacle fics popping up and I said 'what if Alex had tentacles' and everything kind of snowballed from there. So, without further ado... *hops on the tentacle train* Stop me if you've heard this one.

She can’t believe her luck. Honestly, it would be far easier to believe a meteor would land on her in the next five minutes than this.

Apparently, a nice quiet day in her lab is too much to ask for these days.

“Can we just go over this, like, one more time. How... How? _How_ did all...” Winn gestures vaguely at her groin, “ _that_ happen?”

“I already _told you_ ,” she says through gritted teeth, hands on her hips, unwavering even with the urge to cover up her already covered crotch. “And stop _staring_ at it.”

Winn cowers at the glare she gives him, trying his best to avert his gaze away from _that_ particular area. It's almost comical how utterly ridiculous he looks, eyes never staying in one place for long as he ends up avoiding looking at Alex entirely. It would be funnier if she wasn't also having the same problem. The blush coloring both their cheeks is ignored in favor of wrestling down her own embarrassment at getting caught with her pants down. Literally.

“So...” he trails off. She can tell he’s carefully considering his next words, weighing the pros and cons before coming to a consensus, furtively glancing between Alex and _anything_ else. “Aliens gave you tentacles.”

" _One_ alien, " she huffs. “For fuck’s sake, Winn, it’s not that big a deal.”

It’s really not. Kara knows. Alex is dealing, Kara’s dealing. They’re both dealing. Sex is a bit more frustrating now that Alex refuses to let Kara touch her anywhere below the belt without lots and _lots_ of research beforehand, which, she can admit, had been a little harder to deal with, but she just needs to figure out a way to reverse _this_ and get back her own, _very_ _human,_ genitalia. And she _is_ going to reverse it. Finding a way to do that is just... taking a lot longer than she anticipated.

“Well, from what I saw—"

“ ** _Winn_**.”

“Sorry.” His apology is quick, almost reflexive, and her lips quirk up in the beginnings of a smirk at his refusal to meet her eyes again before she tamps it down. The questions burn behind his eyes and his twitching hands and Alex has just enough time to brace herself for the onslaught.

“I’m ju—It’s not...” more vague gestures, “contagious or anything, is it? I’m not going to look down tomorrow morning and see an octopus comin’ out of me, right? Like, how did it happen exactly? Was it one of the aliens you fought last week? Was it that Selubian? How is it transmitted? Is it like a virus or an alien STI or something? Like, did you have a three-way with Kara and another alien maybe, or—“

“Get out,” she interrupts, pointing at her door.

“Yup,” he says and walks right back out the way he came in. He stops at the threshold and turns back around to face Alex. “What _were_ you doing when I came in?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she growls, “ ** _Out_**.”

His squeak is his only response, scampering away from her lab, and she’s more than grateful she doesn’t have to repeat herself, much less explain or answer any of his questions—which she’s sure there would’ve been more of had she given him the chance.

The long heavy sigh she releases echoes in the room.

This is just not her week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How it all starts.

Alex’s breath is knocked out of her in a _whoosh_ as she’s thrown into a wooden crate. Her vision goes blurry and her gun goes scattering across the floor somewhere off to the right, but she’s quick to scramble to her feet, diving for cover behind another crate as a spikelike projection embeds itself in the concrete where she’d previously lay. She absently thanks the exhaustive and extensive training at the DEO for her quick reflexes. A second longer to react and Alex would have been a human shish kebob. She’s also very grateful the alien, in its rampage, had overturned a truck carrying the crates she’s using for cover.

She can hear her agents somewhere behind the large octopus like alien, a Stricculi if she remembers correctly, directing civilians away from the creature currently wreaking havoc on the cars left behind in the tunnel. At least some people have the good sense to run when an alien the size of a semi pops out of one of the sewers and all hell breaks loose. As it is, the Stricculi’s only throwing and smashing empty cars as if throwing a tantrum of sorts. The DEO’d been called to contain and capture if necessary, the NCPD not having the resources to do so.

The sickening sound of bones cracking and soft flesh hitting the tunnel wall echoes in her ears and she’s up in a flash. Pulling a knife from her belt, she weaves in and out of the giant flailing tentacles, swiping at limbs that get too close, rolling to a stop behind another overturned car.

“Vasquez, get that agent out of here,” she orders over the comms.

“Already on it,” she hears over the screech of metal on metal as large SUV goes flying over her head and crashes into another.

The floor rumbles dangerously and a second later, the alien releases an inhuman screech, loud and agonizing to her ears. The sound is so sharp and blinding it feels like she’s being stabbed in her brain with an ice pick. She drops her knife and clutches her ears in a desperate, instinctive intent to block out the noise, but then everything stops and all that’s left is an equally loud ringing in her ears. Something warm drips down the side of her face and her fingers come away with blood.

“Shit,” she mutters. “Is everyone okay?”

“Define okay.” Johnson. Fucking smart-ass. She rolls her eyes, wiping the blood away on her pants.

“Marlow’s been taken care of. A few broken bones here and there. Nothing too fancy. Hamilton’s gonna have her hands full for a few days,” Vasquez relays the information. “She like donuts or coffee?”

“We have to get this alien contained and moved away from the tunnel.” She breaks her cover to get an eye on the alien. It seems to have calmed down some based on the longer intervals between tossed vehicles.

“Both then,” Vasquez mutters. “Any idea on how to get this octopus from tossing cars?”

“Electricity. A lot of it. Got any charges in your vest?”

“Some. You?”

“Two. I’ll make my way to you. And somebody find my goddamn gun.”

She’s up and stumbling (when did she hurt her knee?) from cover to cover, steadily making her way over to Vasquez near the entrance of the tunnel. The Stricculi notices her and she has just enough time to run and dive behind a minivan when it sends a spike towards her, missing it by the skin of her teeth.

She can see Vasquez and another agent, Minh, are huddled near a delivery van. She makes a run for it while its back is turned, staggering her way to the van.

“You got the charges?” she asks, noticing their cuts and scrapes, and the matching blood dripping from both their ears. She can tell the both of them are looking her over, too. Which means she must look as battered as they do.

“Here.” Vasquez hands over three nondescript black boxes about six inches in length and the smaller cylindrical trigger.

“You keep that. And this.” She pulls an identical one from her pocket. “Get as far away as you can, and get its attention, so I can get close to it. Push only when I say so.”

Vasquez nods. “What are you gonna do?” she asks, watching Alex pull out her own charges and some tape, tying the black boxes together in a bundle.

“Something crazy,” she mutters under her breath, turning and making her way closer to the Stricculi. Kara might kill her if she dies. She sets her shoulders back and starts making her way over. As soon as she starts to hear the commotion near the entrance of the tunnel, she _runs_. Dodging, weaving, ducking her way around the purple tentacles.

She’s so close. Barely a few yards away. If she could just get close enough to slide the charges underneath the large center mass...

“Alex!” The shout makes her look up, only to notice the alien staring right at her.

She keeps running, managing to sprint forward a few more feet, but is unable to avoid one of the smaller tendrils snaking around her ankle, yanking her feet from under her. Her head hits the concrete with a smack, leaving her dazed, and blurry-eyed, and it’s pulling her up, up, up, until she’s dangling in front of it, ten or so feet in the air.

Large, black eyes blink blankly at her. Well, she thinks it blinks. It’s difficult to tell with the clear film that may or may not pass for eyelids for this particular species, and with her head pounding like it is. She’s surprised she’s still conscious and holding on to the charges. There’s hardly enough time for her to figure out a way to deposit the charges and get down safely because the Stricculi’s tossing her into the air. Not away from it, like the cars it’d been heaving around, but straight up into the air like a rag doll. Like one would a piece of popcorn, intent on catching it with an open mouth. She pulls the charges close to her chest and braces for impact when it splits open, wide and—

Oh, God. _Is that its mouth?_

* * *

Vasquez’s jaw drops as Alex disappears into the open maw of the octopus.

“Holy shit. _Holy shit_ , that thing ate Director Danvers!” Johnson yells from behind her.

_Fuck_.

The DEO prepared them for a lot of things, but this is so out of the realm of what they’ve been taught and trained for. Alex tends to be the one to come up with absolutely batshit plans to get them _out of situations like this_.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The octopus shrieks again and all of them cover their ears, falling to their knees with the blinding pain. It stops as soon as it starts, and they stagger back to their feet.

“Vasquez, what do we do?” Minh’s tentative, but the question rings in her ears.

Jesus Christ. Okay, think. Think. _What would Alex do?_

“Get me the biggest knife we’ve got.”

“And what? Cut her out of there? Are you insane? We’ll never get close enough.” This time it’s Henderson that’s yelling, red-faced and holding her left side protectively. “Besides, we’re supposed to _contain_ , not kill this thing!”

“Danvers is in there! We have to do som—“

“Wait, look!” Minh interrupts, pointing at the alien.

The creature looks like it’s... convulsing, something protruding from beneath its mouth. It lets out a thick, gurgling noise, and the skin jutting out extends further until the blade of a knife pokes through, cutting a jagged line across. A hand grabs onto the outside; followed by an arm, shoulders, and the rest of Alex, squeezing through the small opening she’d made.

“ _What the fuck._ ”

Vasquez isn’t sure who whispers it. She’s as stunned as they are and far more focused on what’s happening right in front of her.

Alex falls to the floor with a wet smack, knife clattering with her, and both completely covered in a thick green mucous like substance. She’s clawing at her face, flinging away the slime, and groggily scurrying back and lurching to unsteady feet, trying to put as much distance between herself and the alien.

The alien who now looks _livid_ , the cut not having fazed it one bit. Tentacles curl around nearby cars and it lets out another ear-splitting screech; longer this time, higher-pitched, and Vasquez wants to die or pass out, knees cracking on the pavement as she curls inward. She thinks someone’s yelling her name, but it’s distant and fuzzy, and any amount of focusing will surely have her passing out in seconds. She doesn’t notice when it stops. The ringing in her ears is so loud, she assumes the alien’s still making that ungodly sound.

“—quez, push it!” The voice is barely there, but looking up, she can see Alex’s mouth moving, and Alex hurtling forward, still shouting. “Push it!”

Vasquez fumbles with the triggers before pushing the buttons on them both. In the seconds it takes to activate, one of its tentacles wrap around Alex’s leg and fling her onto the hood of an SUV, the rest lobbing the cars towards them leaving them scattering for cover. She can actually _hear_ the zap of the current running through it, and the smell of burnt sewage and something decidedly alien that has bile rising in her throat.

She stands from behind her cover and relief floods through her when she sees an unconscious alien, followed by an uncomfortable pit in her stomach at the image of Alex being thrown several feet. She rushes over to where she’d last seen her.

“Alex?!” She’s all but yelling when she sees the spiderweb cracks on the windshield: evidence of a heavy impact. There’s a groan coming from the other side of the car and Vasquez hurries towards the noise. “You okay?”

Alex just groans again, getting back on her feet, and leaning heavily on the car next to her. “What the fuck is this shit?”

Vasquez steps forward to help, but steps back just as quickly at the stench coming from Alex, coming from the green stuff. She covers her nose and mouth with a gloved hand and tries not to retch.

“Oh, God...”

“Yeah? Imagine being covered in it.” Alex is valiantly wiping at her face with slime-covered hands, spitting and sputtering, and flinging away the green substance. “I don’t think my comms work. Call the DEO for transport.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she says, taking a few more steps back to quickly place the call.

She turns back to the sight of the rest of her team gathering around Alex before reeling back at the vile smell. She’s practically in stitches at the multitude of expressions, ranging from mild concern to Oliveros, who’s as green as the mucous coating Alex.

She gives him maybe three seconds before he’s puking on the pavement.

“So, what’s it like being inside an alien?” Henderson asks and if it were anyone else, she would laugh at the suggestiveness, the clear implication in the question. She keeps her face impassive. But the joke is obvious and her response is automatic.

“Well, it’s not her first time.”

It only takes a second for the joke to process, and they’re all guffawing at Alex’s glare, backing away slightly as she gathers some slime in her hand.

Vasquez has her hands up a little too late and the substance smacks wetly on her ear.

“Oh, ew,” she says, wincing at the stickiness. “That’s disgusting.”

There’s a smug satisfaction on Alex’s face, despite being covered in smelly, green goo, but it’s gone in a flash, replaced by that ever-present seriousness.

“Did anyone find my gun?”

“Oh, Oliveros found—“ The sounds of retching interrupts and everyone glances over, getting an eyeful of Oliveros puking behind a car. “I, um... think he left it with the rest of our gear. I’ll go check.”

“ETA on that transport?” Alex asks, watching Minh jog his way back to check on their gear. “We’re gonna need something big enough to carry this Stricculi. And I need to take, like, ten showers.”

“That’s what it’s called? That sounds like an alien STI.” Johnson snickers at Henderson’s comment.

“Better make that twenty,” Alex grumbles, still flinging away slime.

“Getting eaten wasn’t part of your plan, was it?”

“Vas, I swear to God. I _will_ put you on latrine duty.”

Vasquez wisely keeps her mouth shut for the remainder of the time. There’s no way she’s ignoring the idle threat. She wouldn’t put it past Alex, knowing what she’s there for. That would be too great a risk for Vasquez to take, and Kara would probably yell at her if Alex got hurt because she wasn’t there to watch her back while Kara was away on Argo. Well, maybe not yell... It's far more likely she'll yell at Alex.

That’s her one job this week. Watch Alex. Then Kara comes back, and it’s back to the desert base for her.

Alex is still griping beside her. “Fucking thirty showers. And industrial strength shampoo. Maybe a little bleach.”

It’s probably the hardest thing in the world for her to hold back her laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vasquez is a little shit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tentacles appear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author makes up words for the hell of it. Also, please heed the tags.  
> Specifically: #lots of tentacles, #not like an absurd amount but like...

Kara collapses on top of Alex, gasping into the crook of her neck. “If this is the ‘welcome home’ I get when I leave, maybe I should leave more often,” she pants.

Alex chuckles underneath her. Kara can tell the kiss Alex had pulled her into when she’d walked through their front door wasn’t meant to lead into anything. It was meant to be chaste, quick, a ‘hello, I missed you’ kiss accompanied by a very, _very_ long hug, but one kiss became two (became three, four...), and one thing (Kara pulling Alex flush against her) lead to another (Alex backing Kara up to the kitchen counter), and well...

“I don’t think our kitchen will survive if that happens,” Alex grins, bright-eyed and elated, before she’s twisting her hips and flipping them over. Kara groans with the shifting of the toy inside her, heels digging into Alex when she grinds her hips into a steady rhythm. “Besides, we have a week to make up for,” she says with a smooth thrust that leaves her breathless while Alex mouths at the skin of her neck. Sharp nips turn sharper, trailing down her neck and, with the red sun lamps on, Kara _knows_ Alex is leaving marks.

She can feel her _am’runqi_ wrapping more firmly around the silicone strap-on and she shudders at the slight tugging sensation inside her as Alex rolls her hips. They pull Alex back in, and she keens, long and low, as yet _another_ climax builds.

“God, I missed you so much,” Alex whispers into the hollow of her throat, breath hitching when Kara’s hands dig into the light bruising on her back. ”I missed hearing you,” she continues, a strangled moan slipping past Kara’s lips when deft fingers slip around her clit. “Don’t hold back,” Alex growls with a rough thrust, increasing the pace of her fingers and hips, and, Rao, Kara’s so close, _so close again._

Kara isn’t sure how many time she’s come before this. All she’s aware of is how _good_ Alex is making her feel right now. So adept with her touches, an expert in knowing just where to touch, how hard, how fast, and her desire flares with the unmitigated pleasure that races up her spine and leaves the back of her head tingling.

The ease with which Alex slips between the apex of her thighs, the wetness that coats them both, trailing down and wetting the sheets—it’s overwhelming. She clenches tightly around Alex, arches her back and comes with a cry, shaking and gasping through her release.

“Alex,” she sobs. “ _Fuck, Rao, Alex._ ”

But Alex doesn’t stop. Only slows long enough for Kara to ride out the more intense waves, and then Alex is moving again. Lighter, faster touches, canting up her hips so the toy slips in a little deeper, and, oh Rao, Kara’s embarrassingly close. _Again_.

“It’s okay. I got you. I got you.”

It’s too much. Too much, too soon. Kara’s falling, toes curling, back bowing off the bed, and gulping air as another orgasm tears through her. She calls out Alex’s name as her nails rake down her back. Hips buck up to meet Alex’s short thrusts, stuttering with the touch of her fingers still circling her clit, letting out a sharp whine as her _am’runqi_ tighten more fiercely around the cock inside her.

She thinks she hears Alex hiss at the strength with which her legs wrap around her right before her hearing goes fuzzy and her eyes flutter shut. White bursts behind her lids and her body goes taut with the spasms, until she’s slumping back onto the mattress, limp as she comes down.

The return to Earth is slow. She feels Alex first; still inside her, wet hand at her hip while her other brushes strands of sweaty hair away from her face, pressing a smattering of kisses along her cheek and jaw. Soft, tender touches—very much like Alex to soothe the high that comes from release. Her hearing returns just as slow, like molasses, managing to catch the tail end of an ‘I love you’ before Alex starts in on a steady stream of praise and reassurance, all murmured against her skin.

The incoherent mumbles that slip past her lips have Alex smiling softly with each word she speaks. Kara's limbs shake in exertion, but she manages to trace the delicate expanse of ribs above her with the tips of her fingers, feeling Alex breathe as her chest expands and contracts. Alex cups her cheek and kisses her, aching and gentle and smoldering, a familiar fire building in her chest and expanding lower, and lower still.

She weakly pushes against Alex’s sternum with a whimper. “Wait, wait,” she pants, words returning to her with a shuddering breath. “Just give me a minute. A few minutes. Then I’ll happily return the favor.”

“You’re gonna have to let go of me first.” The grinding of her hips calls attention to her _am’runqi’s_ fast grip on the toy, and Kara moans as they only hold more firmly with the reminder.

“You have to _stop moving_ for that to happen.” Alex knows this, but that hardly stops her from seeing how long a single tie can last. Especially since, the longer the tie, the more sensitive Kara seems to get; that sensation of ‘too much’ and ‘not enough’ as they cling to silicone, to fingers, to the inside of Alex’s mouth—something Alex takes great pleasure in, being the cause of Kara’s undoing until she’s seconds away from passing out, babbling unintelligibly.

“You could just tell your tentacles to let go,” she chuckles.

Kara huffs. “You know they don’t like to be called that.”

“I’ll find some way to make it up to them,” Alex murmurs cheekily, biting a mark at the hollow of her neck, chest rumbling in delight when Kara’s breath hitches, muscles quivering with the renewed strain. “You didn’t keep to the training regimen I set for you while on Argo, did you.”

Kara huffs again. “I was on _vacation_.” She lightly bumps at her shoulder in exasperation. “Clearly, you did. Not that I’m complaining...” she hums.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause it kinda sounds like you’re complaining,” Alex smirks and captures Kara’s mouth in a smooth kiss.

“Psh. Me? Complaining? No way. Nope. I’m very, _very_ appreciative of...” she runs her hands down muscular arms and digs her heels into Alex’s firm ass, “all this. No complaints here. None. You—You’re very—wow.”

“I’m wow?”

“Shut up. It’s hard to think when you keep _moving_.” Her legs pull Alex closer to her, hoping to slow her movements, but Alex just grinds a little harder, a little deeper, and Kara shivers at the climax she’s steadfastly stoking.

“I think you’re very wow, too.” There’s a slight furrow in her brows as she studies Kara’s every expression, making sure to keep the motion of her hips at a pace Kara can handle. “You’re so beautiful, Kara. I love seeing you like this. Supergirl; so wrecked and _fucked_ for me.”

She finds it difficult to focus on anything but feeling. Complex thinking is unnecessary and quickly forgotten as Alex’s words wrench a soft noise out of her. She absently notes she’s giving Alex a bit more leeway with how she’s taking longer strokes. “Rao, Alex, _fuck_ ,” she gasps, a breathy moan slipping past her lips.

“That can be arranged.” The words are barely a whisper in her ear, and Kara almost doesn’t recognize them for what they are as Alex follows the ‘command’ diligently, lifting her hips and thrusting into Kara.

She’s panting, clawing at Alex’s back in a futile effort to keep her grounded. “ _Please_.” The word catches in her throat and Kara can’t think, can’t tell the difference between up and down with how hard and fast Alex drives into her. She matches Alex thrust for thrust, until she’s left twitching with release. “Please,” she pleads, a low whine caught in the back of her throat. “ _Please._ ”

“Tell me what you need, Kara,” she whispers, but Kara only grinds up into the toy, trembling legs trying to push Alex into giving her what she’s desperate for, instinct urging her to keep moving until she comes. Teeth bite into her shoulder in despair when Alex slows and stills above her. “Use your words,” Alex says against her temple, breathless with exertion.

God, she was _so close_ , the edge just within her reach. She sobs and clenches around the strap-on, hips moving of their own accord as Kara tries to chase down her release herself. “Please, Alex. Don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” she purrs into her ear, and Kara barely has time to brace herself before Alex begins anew, ramming her hips up into her, fingers falling back down to the bundle of nerves and drawing small circles around the swollen flesh.

This time, she comes with a soundless scream as everything falls away. Powerful shudders course through her, hands frantically clawing at sheets, at Alex, clinging desperately to anything and everything as Alex helps her ride out the waves with a steady roll of her hips. Her _am’runqi_ don’t let her pull out very far, enveloping the silicone entirely, and when the tugging sensation becomes too much, Kara shoves at Alex’s stomach with a weak groan and shaky hands.

Her eyes had fluttered shut at some point and Kara finally _breathes_ , the sharp sting of air rushing down her throat to her lungs drawing her back down to Earth. She relaxes into the ebb and flow of her climax, sinking, sinking, sinking into warmth. Her toes uncurl, and the prickly numbness at the back of her head and neck fades, leaving a comfortable heat in its place. She’s unaware of the tears tracking down her cheeks until Alex is brushing them away with her thumbs, somewhere between “you did so well for me, Kara” and “I love you so much” and a variety of other sentiments Kara can’t quite process at the moment. Kisses press into sweaty hair and skin, and it washes over Kara and blankets her in a cocoon of comfort.

She nuzzles against Alex’s ear, blindly mouthing, exhausted and gentle, as she comes down. As her strength slowly returns to her limbs, and she can properly hold Alex.

“I’m so getting even when I can move again,” she puffs out.

Alex laughs, kissing her sweetly on the cheek. “I can’t wait.”

* * *

Their appetite for each other only grows in the coming months.

At first, Kara thinks it’s because she was off-planet for a week. It’s the longest they’ve been separated in years, being so far out of each other’s reach. Before, Kara could just fly back to Alex in mere seconds, but that had been impossible with her on Argo and Alex on Earth, light years away from each other. So it makes absolute sense for them both to be touching more than usual; holding hands, hugging, cuddling close on the couch, kissing (making out like horny teenagers). Even sleeping with each other had gotten more intense, as if letting go meant _letting go_ and neither of them were quite ready for a separation like that again. Not so soon after Kara’s vacation away.

And Alex isn’t complaining, so neither is Kara. She’s not. She’s _really, really, really not_.

But she has to admit it’s a little unusual. Just a little.

She’s still not complaining. Any excuse to be close to Alex is a win for her.

She sympathizes with Alex as much as she delights in the slight groans Alex makes when she wakes up in the morning, muscles stiff and sore. While Kara doesn’t fully understand the feeling herself with how they turn off the red sun lamps—the yellow Sun revitalizing and healing away any pain—for the few hours Kara’s under them, she can fully appreciate the absolute exhaustion that accompanies a night in bed with Alex Danvers, leaving her slack and dazed. It makes her wish she could be under them longer, reminding her of the several times over the years she had made a similar wish—to be human, normal, just like everyone else.

To pretend she's anything but the alien who lost an entire world.

To feel _this_ pain like everyone else.

One of these days, sometime in the very near future, Kara will take Alex with her to Argo again. Maybe then that familiar, pleasurable ache won’t allude her and she’ll finally be able to luxuriate in it, to be satisfied with how it settles, so complete and thorough—her skin bruising, and her muscles twinging with the strain. Vulnerable with Alex.

Alex’s stamina would give Kara a run for her money on Argo. Especially if she kept up her more intense training regimen.

Still. It's nice to dream.

* * *

She wakes to her alarm, Alex’s arms wrapped around her, snuggled close to her back and softly snoring into the back of her neck. It’s one of the few ways Alex can stay warm with Kara’s subconscious insisting on cocooning herself with every single blanket on their bed, leaving Alex to fend for herself. Alex had gone to comical lengths time and time again throughout the years, but to no avail, Kara still manages to hog all of the covers.

Despite Alex’s somewhat grumpy demeanor during cold mornings, she loves waking up like this. With Alex cuddling Kara like a pillow pulled tight to her chest. There’s no better sight, no better feeling than the safety and comfort Alex brings. She turns in her arms, a weird mix of shimmying and wiggling, until Kara’s face to face with Alex.

A small grimace passes over her at Alex’s morning breath, but she ignores it in favor of studying the woman before her, a morning ritual she’d gone without for a whole week. From the curve of her forehead and the slope of her nose, to the softness of her lips and the cut of her jaw, her auburn hair burns color with the rays of the Sun behind her. She drinks in the sight of Alex, relaxed and achingly young in sleep, wanting to trace the line of her neck to her shoulder with her mouth and darken the marks she’d left last night.

She lets Alex sleep, instead. Watching, waiting, staying with Alex until she has to get up for work.

Not ten minutes later, Alex stirs. Bleary eyes heavy with sleep blink open and Kara can’t stop the affectionate smile that curls her lips.

“Hey,” Alex whispers, quiet as the sunrise, silencing the cacophony of the world outside with a word.

“Hey,” she whispers back, just as quiet, leaning in for a small kiss. Arms tighten around her, and Kara sighs into Alex at her attempts to deepen the kiss. “Work.” She mumbles the word against her mouth and chuckles when Alex only grumbles in response. Kara reluctantly pulls back and begins the process of disentangling herself from the mess of blankets, refusing to acknowledge Alex’s pout for fear of giving in to the appeal of staying in bed with her forever.

Alex is flat on her back when she’s finished, dozing off to sleep again, and, God, it’s so tempting. How easy it would be to just crawl back into bed and spend the rest of the day having sex with her girlfriend. She sighs internally, mourning the loss of sleepy, morning sex, and curses her responsibilities.

Pancakes would cheer her up. Specifically, Alex’s chocolate chip and blueberry pancakes.

She’s turning back to Alex to ask politely (though she’s not above using her signature pout and puppy dog eyes) when movement from Alex’s boxers stop her in her tracks. Her brows furrow in confusion, zeroing in on the slight writhing. Is Alex wearing a toy? She didn’t remember her going to sleep with one on, so what...

Her internal debate on whether or not to use her x-ray vision lasts two seconds before she decides a quick peek won’t hurt.

She’s not sure if she regrets the decision when, instead of a silicone toy, she sees what looks like _tentacles_ slipping out of Alex from an entrance that wasn't there the night before.

“Alex,” she whispers loudly. Alex hums, turning her head towards Kara’s voice with a slight raise of her eyebrows, keeping her eyes closed. She’s pretty sure Alex is half-asleep right now and answering on instinct, and while it's adorable, her attention is wholly concentrated on the _griffing tentacles coming out of Alex._

“Five more minutes,” Alex mumbles, hand flopping uselessly in her direction.

“ _Alex_.” She calls her name louder, getting up on the bed and shaking her arm as the squirming between her legs increases. “ _Wake **up**._” But Alex is now asleep, a small snore slipping past her lips. Kara rolls her eyes, takes a pillow into her hands and smacks Alex across the stomach with it.

She must be more thrown off by Alex’s spontaneous appearance of tentacles than she thought, because she severely misjudges her strength. Alex’s breath gets promptly knocked out of her—in surprise more than anything—pulling herself into a sitting position as feathers fly from the empty pillowcase in her hands.

“Kara, what the hell—“ Alex is blinking up at her. But Kara is staring at the lone tentacle venturing out of her fly. Her eyes flick back to Alex, but Alex is now staring at the foreign extremity, dumbfounded by its emergence from Alex herself. She watches as Alex blinks, brows furrowing in confusion before her lower half tenses when the tentacle slides out further. Alex blinks again and turns to Kara, glancing down in sleep-addled bewilderment at Kara’s sleep shorts as if wondering how Kara’s _am’runqi_ could have materialized in Alex’s boxers.

But from what Kara’s seen, Alex’s _tentacles_ are nothing like her own. Where Kara’s are thin and slender and blue with her _ofivra’au_ at the distal ends of her appendages, Alex’s are thick—about as thick as five of hers put together—and dark purple with suckers all along its length. Where Kara has nine, Alex has only three, the other two mostly hidden away inside Alex while the one outside tentatively explores.

Alex is back to staring at the new attachment with a strange curiosity. A feather floats past, lightly brushing the end of it, and Alex sharply inhales, tentacle twitching and withdrawing, slipping inside the safety of Alex, who lets out a soft noise at the unfamiliar sensation.

“Huh. Well, that’s new...”


End file.
